Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from New Zealand and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mary Jane Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Amon Düül,
Roxette,
The Fugs,
The Star Department,
The Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
The Velvet Underground,
Kaleidoscope,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül II,
AZ,
Black Pus,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jawbox,
Bobby Sherman,
Procol Harum,
Joy Division,
Q65,
Henry Cow,
Pantaleimon,
Metal Thangz,
Severed Heads,
48th St. Collective,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kas Product,
Tropical Tobacco,
Liliput,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Guru Guru,
Fad Gadget,
Sarah Menescal,
Scientists,
Freddie Wadling,
Maurizio,
The Black Dice,
Unwound,
MC5,
James White and The Blacks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Misunderstood,
Fat Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arthur Verocai,
New Order,
The Sonics,
Deakin,
Lalann,
Juan Atkins,
Little Man,
Wally Richardson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eddi Front,
Blake Baxter,
Intrusion,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.